


the signs that you can't read

by florenceandthemachine



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Frat Boy Eddie, Getting Together, M/M, Nerd Buck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26436397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florenceandthemachine/pseuds/florenceandthemachine
Summary: for the absolutely radiant @tylerhunklin on Tumblr who asked;my friend, if you wrote me a college au and/or a soccer player au for buddie i would owe you my whole life———Let it be known that Edmundo Diaz was not a subtle man.Patient, sure. Kind, absolutely. But subtle? Definitely not.“Eddie, are you paying attention?”“To you? Always, Buckaroo.”
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 286





	the signs that you can't read

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spinningincircles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/gifts).



Let it be known that Edmundo Diaz was not a subtle man. 

Patient, sure. Kind, absolutely. But subtle? Definitely not.

“Eddie, are you paying attention?”

“To you? Always, Buckaroo.”

“I’ve told you before, it’s just Buck. So, what’s the answer to number four?”

No one was better at throwing the already minute amount of subtlety he had out the window than Evan Buckley. It should have been embarrassing—would have been, if it were anyone else—but that’s just how Buck was. If you didn’t love him, you were either an idiot, or an asshole, or both. 

Eddie just happened to wear his… Buck-related emotions a little more on the sleeve than most.

“Ah, no, close, but you have to remember to multiply air resistance on both sides.”

“Right, thanks Buck-amuck.”

“Eddie, no.”

Buck was hot, sure, but more disastrously, he was cute. He was so cute, and he was nice, and Eddie wasn’t sure how much longer he was was going to last under the never ending amount of support and care he got from Buck before he combusted; and it had started at day one. College hadn’t been high on his list for a long time, the thought of starting college when most people his age were graduating something he didn’t know how to approach—but after his tour in Afghanistan all he wanted was a normal life, and Buck… well, Buck was a big help in that.

He wasn’t sure what he appreciated more—the fact that Buck didn’t treat him like some sort of hero after doing only a tour in Afghanistan, the fact that Buck didn’t give a fuck about his age (“Twenty three is not that old, Eddie, you’re barely four years older than me, stop being so dramatic”), or the fact that two weeks into their college career, when Buck walked in to find Eddie with his hand down his pants and distinctively male moans coming from his phone, instead of getting angry or being disgusted, he had almost passed out laughing at Eddie’s embarrassment.

“…no, hang on, how did you even get that number? Where did that come from?”

“Buck-uccino, I’m never going to get this. I’m doomed.”

“Eddie, you—oh god, never use that one again—you’re going to get it. We’ll keep working at it.”

That, though, _that_ was the worst part about rooming with Buck. He was tenacious, or maybe just caring, or nice, or whatever—because when Eddie had started failed his Physics midterm and learned about the very real threat of academic probation (which would mean no grants, no scholarships, no more soccer), Buck had dropped everything and started tutoring Eddie whenever he could. Even now, he was smiling at Eddie like he believed he could do anything, and damn if Eddie didn’t want to believe him.

Buck was just that kind, that sweet, that _good_ —and Eddie was that gone.

–

“Chim, keep your feet moving! Come on!”

As teasing as Eddie may have been wherever Buck was involved, he was completely different when he was on the field. He was every bit the teammate that commanded respect, pushed his players to do better, and kept his team motivated—enough that he had fit in seamlessly with the team, despite being only in his second year, despite his age gap, despite everything.

“Good, Bosco! Keep it up!”

If only Eddie could keep himself that motivated while he was studying. He tried, he really did—but he wasn’t sure if it was the continuous closeness of Buck as they poured over Eddie’s notes, or the impossibility of the materials he was studying (he was in the Army, for fucks sake, he didn’t need to care about the force exerted by his helicopters rotors—he only needed to know that it would fly), but every time they cracked open his physics book, it felt like Eddie was smashing his head into a brick wall. 

Things just made more sense out here. Eddie was in his element, and anyone who knew him, who even looked at him, would know that—so it really, really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Chim jogged over to him, keeping his high knees going as he hopped in place, jerking his chin somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder while he and Hen worked on some touchless passes.

“Looks like you have a visitor.”

Eddie turned around from his position near the goal, squinting over to the tunnel, his face immediately brightening as he saw who it was. He kept himself moving in a jog as he closed the distance between he and Buck easily, all smiles as Buck looked up from his phone. Eddie had to laugh at the image of this kid standing in the middle of the tunnel, forcing the athletes who were running in and out of the locker room to move around him. 

It made sense; Buck really was an immovable force.

Eddie wanted to kiss him so bad. 

“Well, if it isn’t my good-luck-Buck!” Eddie said, pushing a wide smile onto his face and one of his favorite nicknames out into the air so he would stop staring at Buck’s lips when the other scowled. “What are you doing here?”

Sighing, Buck pushed back off the wall, raising a brow. “Well, I was going to give you a crash course in force, speed, air resistance, and velocity, but if you call me that again—”

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Eddie said, legitimately smiling now as he slowed his pace, starting to catch his breath. “Here, I’ll grab my stuff and we can grab a bleacher or something, I’ll just be a—”

“Nope.” Buck said, popping the ‘p’, his annoyance easily forgotten as he playfully pushed Eddie’s shoulder back to the field. “Grab your team and a ball, we’re learning on the field.”

Eddie stared at him, confusion evident on his face for only a moment before he lit up in understanding, calling out to the rest of the team. He had to admit, this was definitely one of Buck’s better ideas—not that Buck had ever had a bad idea, for the record—but if you wanted a surefire way to get Eddie to pay attention to anything, you threw a soccer ball at it. 

Eddie was pleased to know that Buck clearly knew at least that much about him, the feeling dancing in his gut with the reassurance he felt whenever he was reminded that his team had his back. They worked easily with Buck as he ordered them around, had them try different kicks, using the arc of the ball through the air to point out speed, force, gravity. Eddie wasn’t about to say that it was working, but it had to be a good thing that he was forced into a situation where he could focus on something other than Bucks’ voice, or the way that his skin felt when their hands brushed over a textbook.

No, there was no room for soft touches and smiles now; Eddie was stuck in a goal, the smile on Buck’s face far more devious than soft as he explained the rules of their next exercise. Buck was going to ask a question. Eddie was going to give the equation that could be used to solve the problem. It sounded easy enough, but—

“If you can give me the right equation to solve the problem, you get to use your hands to block the shot. If you don’t, you have to use your head.”

…okay, yeah, nothing about that sounded easy. 

The fact that Eddie had a team full of sadists didn’t seem to help, either—he no longer cared about how nice they were being to Buck to help him help Eddie when they were really just in it to torment him. It wasn’t fair.

He tried to voice as much, but Buck just called him out for whining. Which was also unfair. 

Worst of all was afterward; even after he was able to use his arms around half of the shots, his teammates were terrible, horrible people, and Chim proved exactly why once they retreated to the locker room. 

“You know Diaz, I think you did pretty well out there.” he started, and Eddie immediately felt himself on guard—he knew that any compliment after an evening as brutal as that was likely to be designed to lull him into a false sense of security. 

“…thanks, Chim.” he started, eyes narrowed. “I think I might actually have a change of this thing.” Chim clapped him on the back, the grin on his face telling Eddie all he needed to know, and he felt himself ready to groan when Chim cut him off.

“That’s good! I know it must have been hard for you, but, hey think about it this way. At the very least, Buck now knows that you can handle some balls flying at your face.”

Chim’s laugh turned into a sharp yelp as Eddie clipped him with a rat tail, but that didn’t prevent the words from echoing through his head for the rest of the night, cheeks burning bright red whenever he caught Buck looking at him funny.

–

“Alright, we’re done for the night. I can practically see the smoke pouring out of your ears.”

“It’s impossible, Buck-fifty. I’m gonna fail, and I’m gonna get kicked out, and you’ll never get to see my beautiful face ever again.”

Eddie groaned, head resting against the open textbook on the table, hiding his head in his hands. They had been studying off and on for weeks, and while Eddie was pretty proud of the things he had started to memorize and retain, he still didn’t know how they worked, how they fit together, how to chose one over the other in a problem, and he was starting to feel like he might never understand it.

“Christ, stop being dramatic. This is a marathon, not a sprint, and this class is not going to be the end of your world, not if I can help it. But what you need now is a break.” Buck said, ignoring the nickname and the dramatics in one fell swoop. He had his phone out in a half second, scrolling through a few different feeds, before his face lit up. “Come on, Lena invited the whole team over for a game night. We’re going to get you out of your head and you’re going to relax, damn it.”

Eddie wasn’t too proud to admit that his heart did a little flip when he realized that Lena and Buck were texting on the regular, something about his friends liking Buck (and Buck liking his friends!) making his heart swell. “I don’t know, Buck, maybe we should just stay in so I can work on my—“

“Nope.” Buck interrupted, popping the end of the word, pulling the book out from under Eddie’s head, ignoring the whine that Eddie gave when his head thunked against the table. “I’m serious, I’ve burned myself out many times before, you need to take the night and remember why you’re actually studying. Passing is great, but we both know the reason you’re working so hard isn’t for the class, it’s for your team, your friends.” 

_It’s for you_ , Eddie wanted to say, but the words died in his throat before he could even take a breath in.

They were on their way quickly enough, trekking easily to the Phi Sigma Chi sorority house .

Buck looked fucking adorable, cheeks pinked in the cold air, blond mop of curls peeking out from the brim of his beanie, and Eddie couldn’t help himself. “Buck, you know what Lena says when she means game night, right?” he asked as he threw his arm around Buck’s shoulder, relishing in the way that Buck easily fell into step next to him as they walked. Buck smiled up to him, practically batting his eyes, and Eddie felt himself melt. “Yeah, things like Mario Kart or Smash, right? Or maybe Clue? Monopoly?”

Three hours later, Eddie was seeing Buck in a whole new light—because Buck wasn’t just kind, and smart, and adorable.

Buck was a fucking _hustler_. 

And Eddie was fucking _hammered._

He let out a whoop of joy as Buck sunk another ping pong ball in front of Hen and Chim, winning their eighth game in a row, with Eddie taking every drink that anyone scored against their team (Buck was still underage, after all—Eddie may have been a dope where Buck was involved but he wasn’t an idiot).

The thing was, when you had a partner that was amazing at beer pong, you didn’t get to drink nearly as much, so no one could blame Eddie for supplementing himself with several shots throughout the night, one of which spilled as he loudly cheered for Buck’s incredible prowess. Buck laughed at a much more indoor-volume beside him, gasping as Eddie lifted him into the air and Hen let out a wail of defeat, idly shoving the cup toward Chim. Buck’s laugh turned about a pitch higher as Eddie spun, grabbing onto his shoulders for support, looking at him with starry eyes once he got Buck back down to his feet. 

“Buck, you… you’re so… how are you so good?!” Eddie asked, voice a rasp of a whisper, like he was asking for the secrets of the universe, and Buck couldn’t have helped the way he smiled if he tried.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he lifted a ping pong ball, twirling it between two of his fingers. “You know, physics? Just think, Eddie, you could use that big brain to be a beer pong champion.” He asked, laughing as Eddie threw his arms around his shoulder, a ragged exclamation of “YOU’RE SO SMART!” leaving his lips as Buck struggled to accommodate the sudden dead weight. 

“Uh—“

“Okay, that’s usually a sign that it’s time for Eddie to go home.” Hen, his guardian angel, appeared next to him, helping Eddie stand a little more upright. “You guys walked, right? Karen can probably bring you back, I just—“

“Oh, no, that’s okay! I should be able to get him back, now that he’s upright.” Buck said, waving away her concern as he put Eddie’s arm around his shoulders, the other hand secure on his hip as they started to make their way to the front of the house.

Eddie might have been mostly incapacitated by that point, but that didn’t stop him from waving and saying what he thought was a perfectly coherent goodbye to everyone, the cold night air doing little (but still at least doing something) to help his coordination. 

Eddie was content to walk in silence for only a moment, his head tilting onto his shoulder as he looked over to Buck, suddenly feeling so much lighter than he had a moment ago. 

“Buck, you’re so nice to me.”

Buck was laughing. Why was Buck laughing? Eddie was completely serious. 

“Buckinator, I’m serious. You’re so nice. And you’re smart, and you’re so pretty. Did you know?”

“Eddie, you are as drunk as you’ve ever been.” Buck murmured, shaking his head, and Eddie was definitely annoyed that it was night time—because he would have bet money that Buck was blushing. 

Eddie started to whine as Buck pulled out his dorm card (“I’m not drunk, Buck! I’m serious!”), successfully swiping them both into the building and their room, depositing Eddie easily into his bed as he grabbed a bottle of water. He took a detour to their bathroom to pull out the little bottle of Advil he kept beneath the sink, handing Eddie both of them after cracking them both open. 

Eddie stared at the pills in his hand, not entirely sure how he got there, his stomach tightening up as he looked up to Buck. “Hey Bucka… Buck, the… hey Buck?” 

Okay, he was effectively drunk enough that he couldn’t think of a nickname. He popped the Advil into his mouth, swigging the water he was given as Buck closed the door, pulling Eddie’s blanket’s back. “What’s up, Eds?”

Eddie felt himself start to be lowered slowly, sluggishly tugging his feet up onto his bed, unsure as to where his shoes had gone, but he wasn’t going to complain. “We’ll still be friends if I end up failing out of school and having to become a hermit who… who lives under a bridge or something, right?” he managed to get out, and Buck’s eyes snapped up toward Eddie’s face. He wasn’t too sure when they had crossed the line from happy drunk to sad drunk, but damn, they had crossed that line at the speed of sound. 

“Eddie, hey, no. You’re not going to fail out, and you’re going to be fine. Even if that doesn’t happen… you’re stuck with me, nerd. I’m not about to let you get away that easy.”

Eddie sniffled, nodding his head as Buck pulled his covers up, rolling to face the wall as he heard Buck change, the lights flicking off shortly after. He took a few deep breaths to steady himself, closing his eyes as he felt the room start to wobble. He didn’t realize he was speaking until his mouth was already open, voice soft in the dark. 

“I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

Eddie sniffed again, his breath slowing down as he heard Buck shift in his bed, just sober enough to feel Buck’s eyes digging into the back of his head, but just exhausted enough to slip into sleep instead of roll over, only barely listening as Buck responded.

“… just don’t give up, Eds. You got this, I know you do.”

–

The Sunday before the final that would decide his entire life (“I’m begging you, stop being such a drama queen.”), the last thing on Eddie’s mind was physics—he was too focused on the beautiful boy beneath him. He could have drowned in the noises Buck was making as Eddie kissed at his neck, his collar, his swollen lips, the cord of muscle in his neck. He felt Buck’s hands lace with his, the movement more intimate than anything he could have imagined, and he let out a groan as he rolled his hips down, grinding against Buck, and—

—and then Eddie woke up to a soccer ball bouncing off of his head. 

Grunting in pained surprise, he shot straight up out of bed, almost falling to the floor, blankets pooling around his hips as he jerked his head around, focus snapping to the sound of Buck’s laughter. 

(It was a small soothe to chase away the taste of Buck on his lips, the phantom feel of Buck’s body beneath his, flexing his hands like he could still feel their fingers laced together.)

“Buccaneer, what the fuck?!”

“Come on, we’re burning daylight. Aren’t you usually on the field, like, before the sun is up most days?”

“Yeah, maybe when my career wasn’t already over.” Eddie whined, rubbing at his eyes. Eddie wanted nothing more than to throw the blankets back up over his head and roll over—but he knew from experience that Buck would have just ripped his comforter off and dragged him outside, if he had to, and Eddie was in no… physical state (after the dream he had) to risk losing the safe amount of cover the blanket was currently providing.

Honestly, even after being beaned in the head by a soccer ball, he couldn’t stay mad—not when Buck was smiling at him, physics book and coffee in one hand, the other occupied once more as he bent down to pick up the ball. He really, really didn’t deserve Buck, and it made Eddie feel all the guiltier, knowing full well the thoughts that were running through his mind less than an hour ago. 

Thankfully, Buck seemed to soften as Eddie’s emotions played across his face, sighing and rolling his eyes as he tossed Eddie the jersey hanging over the back of his desk chair. “Hey, it’s not over yet. You will get this, I promise. Now, It’s 9 AM, and you’re going to do your drills while I drill you.”

So he was just never going to get that image out of his head, ever. Cool.

An hour later, Eddie was dressed, on the field, working on his figure eights, fueled only by the coffee that Buck had brought him and a burning annoyance for the day as a whole as Buck launched question after question at him. 

He kept up his pace as they went back and forth, moving through a few different drills as Buck continued to question him, asking about formulas, equations, situations, making Eddie walk through each step he would do if he had a calculator in front of him. It was exhausting, but Eddie couldn’t deny that it was working—and he really, really didn’t want to look to deeply into the little moments of pride he felt when Buck smiled at him and moved on to the next problem.

He was lining up a row of shots when Buck started on another problem, sinking each shot perfectly into the net, describing the relationship between friction, air resistance, and velocity, when Buck interrupts.

“No, that’s not right.” 

Eddie’s next shot goes wide as he turns back to Buck, his eyes narrowed as he goes over everything in his head. “What?”

“Go over it again.” Buck has his head mostly hidden behind the practice exam, and Eddie felt himself fall out of step for a moment before he pulled back for another kick. 

“I know the force of gravity.” Eddie started, another kick sinking directly into the goal, refocusing himself. 

“And I know the falling distance and the mass.” He continued, taking a sneak peek back at Buck, who quickly ducked his head again.

“And,” another kick, another goal. “I know the equation for air resistance, because you’ve basically pummeled it into my head.” He said, Buck’s little laugh not unnoticed, and Eddie smiled in spite of his frustration.

He lined up his next shot and sunk it, chewing on his lip. 

“Then I was right, Buck!” Eddie said, pacing back and forth between the cones he had set up. “I would measure the change in distance and double it, I would divide it by the total time minus the air resistance, and I would subtract the initial velocity. That’s, like, textbook, what could I possibly have—“ Finally catching Buck’s eye, Eddie paused, thrown for a loop as Buck put the practice test down, expression stopping Eddie dead in his tracks.

Because Buck was absolutely beaming at him. 

“You’re ready.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie was glad that he had already launched his last ball into the net, because he literally tripped over his feet, catching himself at the last moment as he jogged over to where Buck was sitting, peering over his shoulder. 

Every answer that Eddie had given had been circled on the practice exam, not a drop of red ink anywhere on the page. “Wait, I got them right? I… I was right?”

“Even when I tried to tell you you were wrong—which you weren’t, by the way—you still stuck to what you knew, you were confident enough not to second guess yourself, and you proved it. Eddie, you’re ready. You’re going to crush it.” 

Eddie looked at the test, then back at Buck, then back at the test, and he couldn’t resist it—he picked Buck up, laughing ecstatically as he spun Buck in his arms. He was feeling more confident than he had in an age and a half, and he knew he had the dopiest expression on his face when he set Buck down, his hands still linked around Buck’s waist. 

…with Buck’s hands resting on his shoulders.

“I knew you could do it, Eds.” Buck said, and Eddie felt his face heating up. He had never doubted Buck, not for a minute, even while he was still racked with his own insecurities—but any thanks, any recognition, any _anything_ , were drowned out in Eddie’s throat as Buck moved his hand off of Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie could have sworn he saw stars when he felt the warmth from Buck’s hand rest right against the crook of his neck, thumb on Eddie’s pulse point, his eyes wide as Buck smiled. “I’m really, really proud of you.”

Eddie felt like he was living in a dream his hands sliding down to hold Buck’s hips, half expecting Buck to pull away—finding his smile even brighter instead. Buck looked so happy, so content to be in Eddie’s arms, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling, and Eddie had to swallow, feeling the contrast to himself—sweating, out of breath, probably a little crazy eyed, but… Buck was still looking at him like that.

“Buck, I’m… Can I, um… can I?” Eddie found himself murmuring, chewing his bottom lip. It would kill him right now to let Buck go, when he was this close—but of course, if Buck said the word, he would have leapt back like he was on fire. 

He wasn’t sure if it was relief or elation that he felt, heart pounding, when Buck leaned in instead of answering, his thumb catching just the corner of Eddie’s lip before Buck’s lips met his own.

Kissing Buck was like finding God—and yeah, that was probably the worst possible analogy he could have made, but it was true. Buck kissed him and suddenly everything felt right, something sliding into place so deeply in his heart and soul that he had no idea how he had been surviving without. 

He felt more than he heard Buck moan against his lips and he came crashing down into his own body, pulling back just enough to breathe, unable to keep the huge smile off of his own face. He had to duck his head, the moment getting to be a bit too much for him, the typical enthusiastic show he put up dulled for a moment as he looked up to Buck through his lashes.

“So… that’s okay, then?”

Buck only laughed, tilting Eddie’s head up for another small kiss. “Eddie, that was great. I’ve been gone on you since, like, the first shitty nickname you gave me.” he said, his voice dipping, suddenly going red as he realized what he said—but the damage was already done.

Eddie’s eyes lit up as he tightened his grip around Buck, his grin spreading so far across his face that it actually hurt. 

“Ten-point-Buck. Buck-a-boo. Bucky bear.”

“Eddie, no, that wasn’t supposed to encourage you.”

“…does this mean I get to grab your bubble-Buck?” Eddie asked sweetly, throwing his head back and laughing as Buck buried his head in his shoulder, face burning red.

(Eddie passed his final, obviously—but as excited as he was with the big, red, 91 circled at the top of his page, nothing compared to the warmth he felt when he opened the door to his dorm and found Buck waiting for him in one of his old jerseys. He easily caught Buck in his arms as he jumped, choosing to catch Buck’s lips in a kiss rather than say anything.

After all, he may have had a thousand nicknames at the ready, but for Eddie, nothing compared to calling Buck “mine”.)

**Author's Note:**

> [come scream at me on tumblr.](https://florenceandthemachine.tumblr.com)


End file.
